The steadily falling cold August rains
Continue to pour upon Cheshires lanes;
Over flattening fields of soddened wheat,
Soaking the grass, splashing the feet.
Stands the Combine in the shed;
The unripened apples hanging rosy red.
Stands the caped heron all alone -
His glinting eye as cold as stone.
And in amongst the many puddles
We step around like our troubles:
So lurch ahead with our retreat
Like drunken fools in the street.
And through this months darkly frowns
The cleansing downpours wash the towns;
Scrubs the spire from ingrained time -
Absolves the guilt from the crime!
Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2014
An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the
evening to be appropriate for the purpose.
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by
When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew,
I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true,
A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent
Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent.
I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more.
Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore,
The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry,
As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by.
The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane
As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes.
The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave
And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve.
My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war
But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before.
She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside,
And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride.
Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart,
For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part.
Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear
That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear.
The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years,
Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears,
When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew,
And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.
Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009
Wiggling Waves and Other Observations
Wiggling waves reaching like tall grass,
Summertime’s warning to wear shoes,
Little stubbed toes from bare flip flops,
Tears, scrapes, little ones’ blues.
Searing sidewalks too hot for pups’ paws,
Compassion let’s a walk miss this day,
Steering wheels blistering, electricity soaring,
Rob a bank to get power bills paid?
Summer winks, reminds us of cold winds,
Ice covered streets, wraps, frost bitten toes,
Windows to scrape, shovels of snow,
So no matter which way the wind blows,
Dream of the other one, write a poem,
To the undulating earth, its extremes, its glory,
Give thanks in the middle of wherever you are,
Thanks for the Old, Old Story.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2017
the ink in my pen
flows into a wild river
Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015
Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1
Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees
Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties
Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios
Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires
Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement
Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties
Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities
Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps
Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts
Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers
Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs
Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies
Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules
Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams
Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages
Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions
Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients
Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions
Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets
Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets
Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias
Venimous vixens violate cruel.com visions
White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds
XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms
Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds
Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013
Wind so cold.
Fondles my face.
The tears from heaven.
I wonder if i wish
to stop them
The little voice in me says,
Wait, don't go.
Stay a little longer. I plead.
Sing for me today, rain.
With the gliding rhythm on my piano,
Chilly Wind, caress my bare skin
with the pure coldness that you bring.
like it's my first time in the snow.
the fire tree never fades in the picture.
The yellow sunkissed leaves, too.
What is it about Summer and Fall
that I can't forget?
Memories. Sweet imaginations.
The chilly rain. The misty wind.
You are here.
Freeze me with the sharp coldness you give.
Calm me. Maybe, comfort me.
And, if you leave
Will you visit me when summertime comes?
Before it gets too late
And again I fold.
Copyright © Wendy Meyer | Year Posted 2013
Copyright © Donna Golden | Year Posted 2009
Thoughts of " Autumn " and her " off Spring"
Seasons change as do people...
Her name is Autumn...
She quietly puts her mark the on Season ….
Yet no one sees her there..
She has a certain presence, still …
and her perfume fills the air..
Yet no one speaks to her…
Her colors are not light, but bright…
reds, yellows and orange, quite a sight…
But even though , she’s more than that…
No one approaches, some don’t seem to care..
So she quietly leaves ...before all the trees are bare...
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013
falling from my roofs gutters
dangerous to all.
Don’t walk or stand beneath it;
or you may end up impaled!
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2015
Scrumptious sight of prairies and grass
Ardent beaming of flower buds and buzzing bees
Leafless coils, branches of trees become alive
Hastening! Arousing everyone's joy and vive
Everyone happy on cheerful springtime!
A cotillion trips and chirps of jolly birds
From some distance, I have started to heard
Fantastic shun and kisses of pretty butterflies
Tempting all species of flora and fauna to thrive
Welcoming, beckoning the heat of summertime!
First crisp of breeze, creating dew in morning
Canopy of red and orange leaves from branches, enchanting!
Turning the world into a canvass of nature's brush
Unnoticeable, such romantic dash making anyone blush
Revel, embrace the sweet amorous season of autumn!
Solid chilling raindrops of snowflakes
Giving warning: careful during breaks
Covering branches, bringing icy cold aches
Yet, skiing an exhilarating cool escape
Delight in the coolness ambiance of winter!
CONTEST: MEMORIES ON BRANCHES
SPONSOR: GAIL ANGEL DOYLE
Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2014
Mushroom soup for breakfast
Carrot soup for lunch
Noodle soup for dinner,
Onion soup for brunch!
Chow mein soup the next day,
Broccoli soup – Oh Boy
Barley soup – I’m feeling sick –
But Poetrysoup for joy!
Copyright © Sneha RV The Literature Lover | Year Posted 2015
While taking a well-earned break
Enjoying the warmth of a sunny day
Feel the soft breeze brush against your face
Catch a glimpse of life renewing itself
Budding flowers, trees and the constant chirp
Of new born chicks tucked in their nests
I am grateful for all these simple things
Another day given with eyes to behold
These magical beauties of God's creation
A feast for my soul and eyes each spring
Copyright © Annalise Brigham...a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011
DAYLIGHT IS HERE
Daylight is here and
the birds do sing,
It sounds so tuneful –
just like spring.
The birds have a choir
of harmony bliss,
And then I see two
birds share a kiss!
The gardens too, look
nice and green,
I gaze at this scene –
while I stand in between.
In between the grass
and the flowers,
I look in amazement –
they have super powers.
The morning chill one
can feel –
Even the birds let out
a tuneful squeal.
The sky is blue as though
it is summer,
But it is getting colder,
so where is my jumper?
The scent in the air is of
I gaze up to heaven – I
feel like an elf!
The heaven above, has
sent a new day,
So with this in mind –
it is now time to pray.
So, hearken, my friends,
a new day is born,
Is this the start of nature
Please give thanks, and
‘As we all give thanks; as
Daylight Is Here.’
Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2014
While I gaze at nightfall through chilled droplets
my musings try to redesign past reveries:
oh those exotic, summer escapades now buried
in gravestones of ice- powdered vapor…
and now the blistering winds return
when a frigid son of Poseidon veils
eve's tableau with ghastly pines
like numb statues macabre and furrowed,
hiding the radiance of moonlight.
Looks drab, not interesting, yet come early morn,
the sprigs beckon a tune elegantly droning
on lucent flakes to nibble the skyline red…
a mirror of stars circling in a gentle, gentle prance,
this, only in the magic of a white winter spell.
Interesting Contest for john lawless
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016
As seasons pass,
new reflections are cast upon still waters
Another petal falls
Another ripple crosses,
both drifting away, vanquished by darkness
In the silence that's left, truth is found,
revealing itself between earth and sky,
a prisoner held close, to testify,
for every day of every year,
the heart has kept in memory
It's where the sun's bending light captures each line,
cut into the face,
the price paid for joyous moments
and anguished struggles,
as we moved from season to season,
holding on to people and places,
if ever they were at all
Each season of each year brings a new mirror,
as the distant days of yesterday fade away,
like the ripples from each fallen petal,
without thought or concern,
so life can struggle on its banks,
searching for something,
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2016
Pieces of sunlight
Amid dappled green
Change places with
of emerging silence
Cheerful birds song
Chirp, chirp, chirp
Gently rustling leaves
Morning's musical companions
The flaming muscle car rears
Screaming lurching to a stop
Nose diving, braking hard
Deep throated mechanical bark
Belching tail pipes thunder
The assault splits the air
Chopping stillness to pieces
After awhile birds sing
And the trees are still green
Copyright © James Gibbons | Year Posted 2010
A few leaves that escaped my rake
are skittering across the yard.
The wind seems to be playing
with them, teasing, a winter bully.
December, the fire a comfort.
Here I sit, watching the leaves and
eating cherries..he brought me cherries.
Somewhere it is summer and fruit
is ripe and dripping with promise.. Who
would have thought it possible? The
world small enough that I can taste
that bounty and pretend I am dancing
under the summer moon..dancing,
a red skirt swirling around my legs..
wiping juice from my chin with
Cherries in winter...just imagine.....
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2012
I smell no Jasmines, Daisies or Geraniums this Summer
Nor my soul desires an ancient amphora
Crimson riddles my skin
My mind is an Amethyst.
An Amaranth a fixed star; an amulet
To which my neurons ebb and flow.
Purple radiates in shades
Violet Veins. My palpitations are magenta.
My heart is a deeper shade of purple. This summer.
Like a wound under a microscope.
I long to plot the anelemma of my thoughts
Protons in blue and electrons in amber.
Yet purple dominates my neurons like a clumsily drawn tube map.
In my mind, a soft ray of violet makes a lemniscate
Other colours, smells and senses, an oblivion await.
* This is an exercise in one colour :)
Copyright © YASEMIN BALANDI | Year Posted 2017
Being in denial is like sitting in an empty house,
with a moonlit forest behind it.
Coming out of denial is the new bird,
that comes and stays a while, with that little
empty house, but when winter comes,
he is off on a journey from the heavens above.
Copyright © Emily Kroeger | Year Posted 2009
The heat of summer makes her brain gelatin
The Arizona sun turns her into a skeleton
Time and space she does not put to waste
Really, this poet lady is one of great taste
Iced tea and lemonade in the Arizona sunlight
Create an atmosphere for her that’s just right
Ink just drying on her newly crafted poem
Always ready to rate on the pole of totem
Tall she stands with stature in poet's land
Only doing right waving her magic wand
Leading other poets to higher heights
Lovely readings are on her poetic site
Everyone should look in her poetic bag
What? Jill Martin, you are now tagged!
Comments: Okay Jill, I was tagged by Tamiviolet Manchas. As a result, I have to
pass the tag along. Your name is on the top of the list. Your poetry is just
wonderful! Now, you must find a poet whose poetry you enjoy reading, and tag
that poet with a poem. Man, this is so much fun! Chau!
Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2006
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010
Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2010
Slipping away in time and space
Stuck inside these four walls, lonely souls tangled and lost, they dance to
s evets h
and swirl inside of innuendos. They claim desires, the desire of longing
The desires of love, they demand yet make no claims
Opening hearts leads to bloodshed, despair, agony
The dance of desire leads only to emptiness
So on misty clouds, the dancer dance
Entwined in thought, yet never that first kiss
Sadly the love fades into the night
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2009
I was just trying to remember the past
trying to remember the good people
and the bad people,
that i came across on my way,
i want you to know
that you are among the good people
that left a good trace in my life,
once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.
Copyright © VICTOR BUN | Year Posted 2012
Copyright © Muhammad Safa Thajudeen | Year Posted 2015
I'm 51 today.
51 tomorrow, yay
Was 51 yesterday.
52 is months away,
And yes I'm thankful.
Although it's not my real birthday,
It kinda is in a certain way.
I'm still alive another day.
I had the notion to celebrate.
And be thankful.
Though it's not a holiday.
Thanksgiving has come and gone away,
I'm just alive today.
For that I'm thankful.
Honestly, I am not just trying to make these lines rhyme,
Or reflect upon the deep sublime.
I'm just grateful today to be alive.
I mean really thankful.
I'm not trying to wow you with philosophy,
Or impress you with theology.
It matters not at all to me.
I just feel thankful.
So tonight I take a walk outside,
I look up into the endless sky and then I breathe.
I breathe in deep,
And I say thank you.
And maybe not just to Who you think,
Man let's throw in the kitchen sink,
And include all who've touched my life, to whom I'm thankful.
Some of you I'm glad you're gone,
Even tho you still live on
Frankly you stayed a bit too long
But some you the grave stole far too soon,
And yet I'm still thankful.
Today the living and the dead
You've both been right up inside my head,
And synergized this verbal thread.
For that I'm thankful.
I close my eyes and think of Tim, named David right there toward the end.
I always smile when I think of him,
And now I listen
I heard a siren going by,
I wonder who and wonder why,
Was it a wreck, did someone die?
Yet still I listen.
Neighbors dogs are going wild.
Was that the laughter of a child.
Seems like I can hear for miles.
Still I listen.
I hear the hi-way roar of cars.
Tho I have never heard the stars
Is there really life on Mars?
Shhh brain please shut up and listen!
The soft night whispers in my ears.
Pressing through my random fears,
I stand amazed at what I hear.
And now I wonder.
I open up my eyes and see as I feel this winter breeze
The silhouette of leafless trees.
I stand in wonder
Then I wonder about the first man to ever be,
Or the first time he looked up to see
The Milky Way the galaxies.
Did he wonder?
I wonder what he did
How he loved how he lived.
If he ever lost a friend?
Man oh man I wonder.
Was he the first to dig a grave?
How it sounded if he prayed?
How he fought?
How he played?
If that man could see us all today,
What would he say I wonder?
In ways was he a lot like me?
Did he sometimes fear what he could not see?
Did he create unseen walls
I stand and wonder.
Did he ever hurt the ones he loved?
Did life convince him not to trust?
My great grandfather lived
My DNA is shared with him.
I wonder how we are the same,
And I don't even know his name.
Still I wonder.
Will my great grand kids know my name?
Will it even matter who's to say?
Will they look up in wonder?
Will they listen?
Will they be thankful?
Not much I can leave to them
That would matter too much in the end.
I suppose the primal hope in man
Is the hope I hope lives on in them
I hope they wonder. About the universe.
I hope they listen. To life's unspoken verse.
I hope they're thankful. Even in midst of deepest hurts.
I hope they're thankful.
I hope they listen.
I hope they wonder.
And no matter what life hands them,
I hope they hope.
Copyright © Kelly Crenshaw | Year Posted 2014
We’re so tired, of winter’s, snow and ice,
For too long, we have been, within our house, winter’s price.
Why won’t you come, to visit us, and sing?
Where we’ll be touched, by your sun, so heartily, beaming.
Oh where! Oh where! Are you, our sweet Spring?
We need you, so very longingly!
We saw you peak out, for just one day.
Then you quickly, and suddenly, ran so very far away.
So we did a Rain Dance, and danced in the cold.
Without your shinning brightness, all we got, was cold snow!
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
Why did you run, so very far, with your blessing!
We sought the Groundhog, that he ask you, to come back.
But he was burrowed, deep beneath, all the snow, and ice pack.
He wouldn’t open his door, as we knocked, true and hard.
He refused, to even come out, as he denied the pleas, of this bard!
Oh where! Oh where! Are you, our precious, sweet Spring?
We beseech thee, to please come back, to me!
The trees want to bloom; their sprouts are ready, to collect.
Our hearts are there beside them, under this winter, and it’s effects.
We’ll sit here, dreaming of the beauty, only you can affect.
We’re hopeful, can’t wait, but now at March’s mercy, and redirect.
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
Our hearts and souls want to be warmed by thee!
What? Dragon and I see you! We rejoice my friend!
Our hearts, like the trees, are beginning, to warm again.
The snow is leaving; all is greening, before our eyes.
We beg you, to please stay here, solidly, close by our side.
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
At last! It doesn’t matter! We have you back, and all that you bring!
Written for my good Friend Jack Ellison.
Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2014
From the painted skies of morning
To the starlight of the night,
Whether day is just aborning
Or in fading of the light,
In the summer days of sunshine
Or in winter days of white,
God is bursting out all over,
His awed children to delight
With his awesome show of might.
But the springtime, oh the springtime
Is the best of all the seasons.
It is favored by the Father
For he finds so many reasons
To adore it and adorn it,
With the beauty of the flowers
That are everywhere in springtime,
In the warming springtime hours,
Sublimely bathed in springtime showers.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2014
Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2009